


crescent, waning

by swoonstruck



Series: hakkayuu verse [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood Drinking, M/M, Original Character(s), Unresolved Romantic Tension, Vampires, ya know just ...vampire stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29620236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swoonstruck/pseuds/swoonstruck
Summary: Hakka receives a (mostly) unexpected visitor.
Relationships: Hakkasei Togarashi/Yuuma Kuromoto
Series: hakkayuu verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2176305





	crescent, waning

It was all Hakka could do to stumble into his unit, kick off his shoes, and collapse onto the loveseat in the dark, cramped living area. He laid there for a good minute trying to scrape together the energy to move to his actual bed, but with every passing second his resolve drained away a little bit more.

“How long are you going to stay there? You haven’t even locked the door.”

Hakka reluctantly lifted his head, squinting in the gloom. He was unsurprised to find Yuuma occupying the room’s only other chair, cheek propped in his hand, body sprawled elegantly like a satisfied cat. Yuuma leaned forward slightly as he gave the hunter a once-over. “You look terrible, by the way.”

“Thanks, I didn’t notice,” Hakka grumbled, dropping his face back into the cushions. “Didja want somethin’? You never come over here this early.” Usually he would be a bit more diplomatic, but exhaustion had drained his tact away along with his energy. There was only an hour or two left until daybreak, so Yuuma probably wouldn’t stay for very long this time. Hakka was simultaneously disappointed and relieved by the realization. Lately, being alone with him had been a bit ...stranger than usual. Yuuma was always strange to Hakka, but not in this way.

“I do ...want something.” The vampire’s voice was quiet and, if Hakka hadn’t known him this well, he would have missed the tinge of hesitance coloring his tone. “The usual something.”

Yuuma was awfully roundabout when it came to this, Hakka thought. He pushed himself upright with a sigh, shrugging off his coat and slinging it over the back of the chair so that he could unbutton his shirt. (He ignored Yuuma’s grimace at his untidiness.) “‘Kay. Do it quick before I collapse.” 

“Not right now, you idiot,” Yuuma chided, rolling his eyes. “What kind of person do you think I am?” He stood then, gesturing towards the small kitchenette. “Come on.”

Hakka was admittedly not operating at a hundred percent capacity at the moment, so he stared uncomprehendingly after Yuuma as the man padded noiselessly towards the kitchen. His head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, fingers frozen on his buttons. “Uh ...huh?”

Yuuma paused and turned to look at him sidelong. “Togarashi,” he said very patiently. “I’m not going to take blood from you while you’re exhausted. You need to replenish yourself. Are you following?”

“Yeah ...”

“Good. So go get changed,” Yuuma said, turning to the cabinets, “while I make breakfast.”

“While you ...make breakfast,” Hakka said blankly, still rooted to the spot. “But Yuuma, I thought you hated the smell of -”

“I’m making an exception just this once,” Yuuma snapped, whipping around to point at his bewildered companion. “So hurry up before I change my mind!”

“Okay, okay,” Hakka said, finally jumping to his feet. He raised his hands placatingly as he inched towards his room. “I’ll just, uh -”

“Quickly.” 

Quickly (or rather, as quickly as he could make his aching muscles cooperate), Hakka speed-showered and changed into a loose-fitting sweatshirt and some trousers. He vaguely remembered that both pieces had been part of their own respective ensembles, but he had lost their counterparts long ago. Mismatched as they were, they were comfy, so it was whatever. He still felt a bit self-conscious as he peeked around the corner into the kitchenette, though. 

Hakka frowned when he saw that the oven was on and that Yuuma was nowhere to be found. Maybe he had changed his mind -?

“Too long,” came the deadpan voice from behind him. He jumped.

“Jeez! Don’t do that.” Hakka exclaimed, clutching his chest. Yuuma simply shook his head in amusement and moved past him. “What’d you make?”

“Something you’d like.” Yuuma turned off the oven and cracked it open to peek inside; immediately, the heady scent of apples and cinnamon filled the room. Hakka’s eyes went round. “Probably.”

“Apple pie?!” Hakka gasped, his exhaustion suddenly gone. “I didn’t even know you could cook!”

“Apple crisp,” Yuuma corrected, gingerly sliding the aforementioned item onto the counter and shutting the oven again. “And of course I can cook. It’s not difficult.”

That, at least, Hakka could recognize as a jab at himself. He huffed, pouting as he hopped up onto the single rickety barstool and snatched a fork from the holder. “Not everybody can just stand around waiting all day for stuff to get finished cooking.”

“It‘s an exercise in patience,” Yuuma said dryly as he rounded the counter. “Which we both know you’re sorely lacking in.”

Yuuma nudged a glass of water towards him, and Hakka felt himself soften. Despite his sardonic words, despite his guardedness and his insistence on keeping everyone but his sister an arm’s length away, Yuuma was still concerned for him. It might just be common decency to some, but even doing something as simple as making Hakka food after he dragged himself half-dead through the door, weary from a night of fighting entities that tried their damndest not to let him escape with his life and a partner who would just as gladly kick his bleeding body off a cliff than help him finish an assignment, touched him in a way he couldn’t describe. 

Even more so because when Hakka offered, Yuuma could have easily just bitten him and left him passed out on the floor, and Hakka wouldn’t have even resented him for it. It was, in his experience, how most vampires were - even himself, to some degree. Yet he had decided to stay, even with dawn creeping in on the horizon and chipping away at the safety of night. It made a surge of gratitude well up in Hakka’s chest, and he reached out and caught Yuuma’s sleeve before the man could move away.

“Thank you,” he said as sincerely as he could. He knew Yuuma would shut down on him if he pushed it, but he had to at least say something. Yuuma stared back at him, his expression enigmatic, but Hakka held his gaze. After a moment, the spell broke; Yuuma clicked his tongue and turned, brushing Hakka’s hand from his arm.

“It’s only right. After all, we are ...allies, aren’t we?”

Right. Allies. That’s what they were. Hakka nodded, not trusting himself to say anything else, and instead focused on his food. Yuuma made his way to the window, peeking quickly through the curtains before muttering something and drawing them closed. He moved behind Hakka back to the living space, assumedly to resume lounging there until Hakka was finished, but Hakka didn’t hear the creak the chairs made when weight settled onto them. Instead, he heard a rustle, and the telltale swish of the heavy fabric of his coat.

“It’s torn in three places.” 

Hakka swallowed a mouthful of crisp. “Yeah. One of the, um, targets caught me off guard.” His side throbbed at the memory, a flash of phantom pain; he dispelled it from his mind and pulled his thoughts back to the present. No point in dwelling on it now when it was over with. “It’s fine, though. We took care of it.”

“Togarashi.” Yuuma’s voice quieted, but in the silence of the apartment Hakka had no trouble hearing it. He turned to look at him, only to find Yuuma’s back to him as he stared down at the coat. “You’ve become reckless, haven’t you.”

It wasn’t a question, so Hakka didn’t answer. Yuuma sighed, dropping the coat back to the chair and sweeping a hand through his bangs. “Nevermind it. It’s no concern of mine how you handle this. Just don’t get yourself killed while I still need you.”

Despite the fact that Yuuma didn’t mean it like that - because this wasn’t that, and never would be - Hakka’s heart skipped a beat anyway. He tried not to let it show on his face as he shoveled the rest of the pastry down. “I won’t. C’mon, have some faith! I know what I’m doing!”

“I highly doubt that,” Yuuma muttered juuust loud enough for Hakka to hear.

“Hey ~”

“Are you finished? I have thirty minutes left to get back before dawn.” 

“Right, right, right. Okay!” Hakka took a swig of water to wash down the last of the crisp, then swiveled on the stool and spread his arms with a grin. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”

“Do you have to be so asinine …”

“Hey! That rhymed! Look how in sync we are,” said Hakka brightly, sliding back to the floor as Yuuma sauntered over. Being mostly rejuvenated now, Hakka could spare a little energy to tease him. “I guess we’re kinda having breakfast together after all -“

“Togarashi.” Yuuma interrupted him, his voice low. Hakka fell silent at the tone. He became abruptly, unnervingly aware of the silence around them; the way his every breath echoed in the space. They really were totally alone together. And then all of a sudden he was thinking that maybe they should have done this earlier after all, because now he was awake enough, aware enough, to notice every infinitesimal detail of the process as it happened. And wasn’t that some form of exquisite agony, to have the person you like this close to you and still so far out of reach? 

(Or maybe that was just Hakka’s usual 5 AM existential panic, rearing its head at the worst possible moment. Maybe he really should stop being so reckless in the field; it was obviously knocking a few of his screws loose.)

Yuuma was so close that Hakka could feel the chill emanating from his body. What made him shiver, though, was the cool brush of the thumb across his neck as Yuuma reached up and tugged his collar aside. You don’t need to move it, Hakka thought hazily as Yuuma leaned in. The sharp smell of peppermint filled his senses. It’s already loose enough. My throat’s already in the open. But he knew Yuuma would have done that telegraphed, unnecessary gesture either way - even if he’d been shirtless - because its intention was reassurance, not practicality, and he always let Hakka know exactly where he intended to bite so that Hakka would know what to expect. It was just another little thing Yuuma did for him, out of his own discreet kindness.

Because Yuuma really was kind, he knew, even if he often acted otherwise. Hakka’s eyes drifted shut as Yuuma’s lips pressed against his jugular, the prick of his fangs slipping in nearly unnoticeable. He could have been rougher - he knew Hakka was a fast healer - but Yuuma always did it like this, so that it was less like a bite and more like a kiss -

No. Those thoughts, especially right now, were better left alone. Because this wasn’t that, and even as Hakka stood there in that stillness, feeling the granite of the countertop dig into his back as Yuuma drank from him, Yuuma was still careful to hold his body slightly away, to maintain some sense of distance, and that centimeter of space may as well have been a canyon. It was an unspoken barrier, and no matter how badly he wanted it to not be there, Hakka couldn’t ignore the fact that it was. 

Yuuma detached from his neck with a soft pop, and Hakka pointedly averted his gaze as the vampire’s tongue swiped over the speck of red at the corner of his lips. He cleared his throat. “Uh, so, is that ..?” 

“Yes, thank you. I shouldn’t need to visit for a little while.” Yuuma cast a brief glance towards the window and sighed. “I’ll be going, then. I still have time.”

“Ah - okay,” Hakka said as he followed his companion to the door. He was a little sluggish from the feeding and his own prior lack of sleep; maybe that’s why his internal filter failed to catch his next words. “And if you want, you ...can just come over anyway.”

Yuuma paused with his hand on the doorknob, his back stiffening. Hakka immediately tried to backpedal. “I mean! I just thought we could -”

He cut himself off, regretting that he’d even opened his mouth. It was too late, anyway; the words hung in the air, unfinished and unbearable. Yuuma slowly opened the door and spoke without looking back.

“Togarashi,” he said quietly. “Don’t forget what we are to each other.”

“Right,” Hakka said numbly. Because this wasn’t that.

“Good day.” And Yuuma was gone, the shadows subsumed him instantly. Hakka stared out into the night for a long moment, counting the stars as they disappeared in the face of the oncoming dawn, then sighed and shut the door. 

This time, he made sure to lock it.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought it would be cool if I could assemble my writings about this universe in a collection on AO3 🤣 t-the collection organization is nice .........


End file.
